


The Tower

by Dream_Wreaver



Series: The Hidden Volumes [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Rapunzel AU, gifts for friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 15:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14059755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/Dream_Wreaver
Summary: What is the purpose of a tower? Is it to keep something hidden? Or someone?





	The Tower

**Author's Note:**

> Because Poppicock asked for it, here it is! Hope you guys enjoy!

Legends tell that towers hold incredible troves. Sorcerers would use them to hide their knowledge, witches to hide treasure or a beautiful maiden. These towers were nigh impenetrable without the use of magic, and just as difficult to even locate. The most skilled of these magical beings could even transport their towers should their location become compromised in any way. The most powerful, and dangerous, sorcerer Hawkmoth was the only one left living with the ability to do that.

The man with silvery golden hair walked quickly along the path. He had been in town to gather supplies, all manner or edibles, and things that looked plain disgusting. They were sorted nearly and stored in his basket. As he made for a pub on the edge of the village he looked around furtively. Once certain that no one was paying him any mind he ducked into an alley between the buildings and emerged in the woods. To throw people off the trail he could not simply disappear and reappear in his domain. No, normal people didn’t do things that way. He slipped into the forest, where he was less likely to be seen. And  _ then _ he magicked himself away.

Through the mists of his own making he reappeared, his peasant clothes replaced by deep purple robes held together with a butterfly shaped clasp. In a secluded spot that was difficult to trace and even more difficult to get to. And therein lay his dwelling. A large stone tower, with no door to access it. Instead he called up,

“Let down your hair!”

A mass of black was tossed out a high window, landing on the ground. As it fell it thinned out until it resembled more a rope of silk than the black energy it had before. The man formed a slip, wrapping it tightly around his hand as he stepped onto the larger loop. Instantly he was pulled up into the tower. The interior was a mess, with mountains of books scattered all over every available surface. Aside from one wooden table, which was laden with glass containers and other instruments. Over the stove a cauldron bubbled, but not with a magical spell, just his evening meal. The mass of black was wound back into the window, black hair that spanned down and around a young woman. His apprentice.

“Welcome back, Master Hawkmoth,” she demurred.

“I’m home Nathalie,” he replied, setting his basket down on the floor.

Nathalie began to wind up her hair, finding a way to secure it so it wouldn't be in the way while she worked. It was difficult, but her burgeoning magical skills helped. She had come a long way from that ambitious yet unskilled peasant he'd met several years before in his travels. As a matter of fact, it had been her dogged determination that had convinced him to take her on.

But everything came with a price. Nathalie’s was her freedom. Freedom for the sake of power. That same day he'd cast a spell on her; by the next day her hair had grown out to nearly 24 meters in length and she could no longer leave the tower. He'd told her this was her goal. That when she could find, or make a way to break it then he would know that she was ready. Several years later and her hair was still as long as ever, she had not yet found a way to cut it.

In the meantime she took care of the domestic tasks in between studying her spells, brewing potions, analyzing the materials he would bring back for imperfections (most of the time they didn't as he was so specific about getting the best, but sometimes he would throw something subpar in just to test her) among other things.

“I take it you haven't made any progress today,” he began conversationally as she brought him a cup of tea.

“I wouldn't say I haven't made progress,” she partied, “merely that I haven't finished a spell breaker that works properly yet.”

“And the difference is?”

“I've been making progress, it just hasn't yielded the results I wanted.”

“So, no progress at all then.”

She sighed, “Yes Master Hakwmoth, whatever you say.”

“You've been getting quite cheeky lately. I would stay your tongue before I really have it put to use.”

A statement like that could be taken any number of ways when coming from a man as dangerous as him. So out of her own self preservation Nathalie said nothing.

They ate and studied in silence. But he could tell, thanks to his empathic powers, that he left silence was contemplative instead of academic. She was thinking about something that was not her work.

“What are you pondering?” He asked her.

Nathalie, shaken out of her stupor by the question, shook her head, “Apologies Master, my mind was elsewhere.”

“I noticed, care to share with me?”

“I was just thinking about the day we met.”

Ah yes, he remembered that day well.

MLB

He had been in her village, slipping about and gathering supplies. This town had only meant to be a stopover, and as such he had cast a spell on the townsfolk so that they wouldn't pay him any kind. But he had caught the eye of a vendor’s daughter and from then on she had been watching him. He saw her wandering about time, always in the same place. It didn't take magic to figure out she was trailing him. He had thought it no matter though, because he could make himself disappear in an instant.

And then she'd somehow managed to find his sanctuary. He’d been able to subdue her, not that she'd posed any threat, and had her pinned up against the wall, magical vines from the few living plants hoisting her arms above her head as she struggled against them.

“Now, now, now,” Hawkmoth had said, trailing a finger along the length of her jaw, “What should I do with you my intrepid little tresspasser?”

“Let me go.” Nathalie had demanded, using all her strength to wrench her body scant inches away from the wall it was currently pinned against.

“Not a chance,” Hawkmoth had laughed, “I haven’t extracted my pound of flesh yet. And what sweet flesh I have to extract from, don't I?”

She recoiled as far as she could given her position. “And what life will be left for you once I'm done?” Hawkmoth continued, “Well, I suppose the local whorehouse is always in need of new employees. Or… I imagine you’re clever enough that you could manage to convince some poor fool to take you as his wife. Either way,” he shrugged, “I suppose it'll be none of my business.”

“No,” she begged, “No please no! I don’t want that!”

“No?” Hawkmoth chuckled, “Then what is it you want?”

“I want- I want-” Nathalie hung her head down as she thought. How long had it been since someone had asked her what she wanted, rather than told her what was expected of her? This powerful, dangerous man had though, and as she thought more about it, she realized what the answer was.

“You.” Nathalie grit her teeth, “I want to be like you.”

Out of all the answers she could have given him, he had not been expecting this one, “Care to elaborate?”

“I want what you have, I want freedom. I want the power to  _ take _ my freedom.”

Hawkmoth raised a brow, “Interesting, and if I told you there was a price?”

“I’d gladly pay it, I don’t want my old life any longer. I don’t want the only expectation of me to be getting married and having children. I want to be a witch, I want to have power, I want my freedom.”

“Hmm….” Hawkmoth mused thoughtfully, “I do see great potential in you. Very well.”

With a snap of his fingers the trap released its captive and receded into its benign form. Nathalie slumped to the ground, adrenaline all but dried up. She rubbed at her chafed wrists, meanwhile Hawkmoth made a few motions with his hands, conjuring the magic which sparkled like purple stardust as he gathered it in the air. A snap of the wrist sent it flying to her, dusting her over completely in it. Instantly it set to work, and Nathalie watched both awed and horrified as before her very eyes her hair grew and lengthened and thickened. It seemed neverending, but it did stop eventually.

“What did you do to me?” she asked him.

“Your price,” Hawkmoth replied, “You said you would pay anything for freedom, well, here it is.”

“You… made my hair grow?” Nathalie questioned, not quite understanding.

“It’s more than mere hair my dear,” Hawkmoth laughed at her naivete, “That is a spell by which you shall begin your training. That hair cannot be cut by any normal means. And I will most certainly not be cutting it. When you have learned enough you will be able to break the spell and cut it. When that day comes, I will know that you are ready to go off on your own. Until that day, Miss…” he trailed off realizing he didn’t even know her name.”

“Nathalie,” she replied.

“Well Miss Nathalie, until that day you are bound: to this tower and to me.”

MLB

And so the years had passed, continued to pass. Nathalie learned a great deal under Hawkmoth’s tutelage. However, he was adamant she learn to break the spell on her hair by herself, and wouldn’t give her so much as a hint as to how she should go about it. At first it seemed simple enough. Research, likely the spell he had used was one from one of his various tomes that lay in haphazard stacks around the tower. When pouring over them for months yielded no result she figured that perhaps he had gotten the spell from some wealth of knowledge he did not strictly possess. She checked the hidden recesses of the tower, even tried using magic to locate any scroll or book which might have had relevance. Said books she sent him out to retrieve. Getting them yielded no fruit either.

Then she had been forced to admit that the spell might just have been of his own creation. In which case the solution was not so simple as finding the proper counterspell or remedy. No, Nathalie would have to get incredibly creative. And as of yet she had an entire unpublished spellbook of spells she had crafted in order to break her spell, failed, yet had proven to be useful in other tasks.

Potions, they were a whole other animal to try and subdue. Rare was the remedy that wasn’t a counter or anti-spell for a spell like this. But she had tried, she’d even tried concocting a hair loss potion and taking it to no avail. Then had come the idea to meddle in her master’s mind. She knew he held the answer, and a sleeping draught paired with a dream seer spell should have allowed her to dig through his thoughts to find it. Though he had applauded her creativity in thinking to check his dreamscape, he had tauntingly and rather condescendingly informed her that his mental shields were far too strong for such an amateurish attempt as this.

Which left her at an impasse. Day in and day out Hawkmoth would leave, return with items for her to examine and inventory. And she was never any closer to freeing herself. But as it happened, she heard the sounds of puffing and wheezing from outside the tower. Strange, she thought as she went to the wide window to see what was going on. She noticed a head of golden hair, scaling the tower wall with the aid of what looked like cat’s claws, except they were on top of his hands and seem to fasten at the wrists. Nathalie wondered if she should do something. But as she reached out to perform a spell the magic ward that was part and parcel of her price rippled and fizzled, sending a shockwave through her body so powerful it physically through her back. She had no other option than to allow this stranger into the tower. Though, once he got in, he would be taking a _ very _ quick trip back down.

At last he landed in, dressed almost head to toe in black save for the gold of his hair and the bared spots where his claws hung on his wrists. He panted harshly, sinking to place his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. But as she quietly murmured a backlash spell he regained his stamina and began looking around. And then he noticed her.

“Who are you?” he asked, “What are you doing here?”

Nathalie didn’t answer, she just finished the spell. A wave of blue magic was sent out at him, intent on knocking him right back out that window and onto the ground far below. But she had underestimated his reflexes. In what felt like a flash, he had a long staff in his outstretched hand. It was like watching lightning strike a lightning rod, as the magic was absorbed into it and then dispersed as it had never been.

“I’ll ask you again,” the man, no  _ boy _ Nathalie realized as she took a closer look at him, narrowed verdant green eyes at her, “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“I’m Nathalie,” She replied, “Who are you?”

“I’m Adrien Agreste,” he answered, “And I’m Hawkmoth’s son.”

MLB

She couldn’t have just thrown him out after  _ that _ little revelation. So Nathalie sat him down and decided to make tea. Adrien was an inquisitive young man, though she could tell right away he was trying to stay his most pressing question. She made him stew in it until the tea was done and she had it brought over.

“I can tell you’re burning to ask me something,” she said as the pot and a cup floated over with a few gestures of her hand. The liquid poured into the cup as the extras she wanted to add to it floated up as well. Circling her finger in a stirring motion mimicking the actions of the teaspoon in the cup she continued, “So go ahead, ask away.”

“What- I mean,” Adrien fidgeted, apparently trying to find a polite way to ask something he thought impolite to ask but too curious to let the matter drop, “What happened to your-”

“My hair?” Nathalie asked. When he nodded she answered, “More of your father’s handiwork.”

“Why would he place a spell like that on you?”

Nathalie shrugged, “He came very close to killing me once I discovered his little hideout on the outskirts of my village. I told him I wanted more than what was there, and he said I had the potential to learn. This life gives me freedom, but it didn’t come without its own price,” while she took a sip of tea with one hand the other idly twirled a shorter section of her locks, “Until I can figure out how to break the spell and cut my hair, I can’t even leave the tower.”

“Why would you trade your freedom for that?” Adrien looked incredulous, “This isn’t freedom, it’s enslavement!”

Nathalie narrowed her eyes at him, “And what would you, a young man of relatively good standing, with a powerful sorcerer for a father, know about freedom? Are you aware of what is expected of someone like me? A woman of childbearing age? What do you think the opportunities are available to me? I could either marry, settle down and have children or die a spinster ostracized by society. And if it is my destiny to die alone, I want it to be because of my choice.” her mini tirade finished, she bored her narrow gaze further into him, “And what of you Adrien. Why have I never heard of you from your father before?”

“My father,” Adrien looked almost ashamed to say it, “Is not necessarily a family man. Not in the traditional sense.”

“He left you and your mother, didn’t he?”

“No!” Adrien protested almost on reflex, “I mean, yes, I mean- it’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it then,” Nathalie gestured.

“My mother…” Adrien bit his lip and sighed, “My family life is complicated. My mother fell ill and my father… as far as I know Father turned to magic trying to find a cure. But he never came back and my mother left me with another family. I’ve been tracking my father ever since.”

“How tragic,” Nathalie deadpanned.

“It is,” Adrien asserted, “Though, I suppose the one I feel bad for is you.”

“And why would that be?”

“I know my father’s spellwork,” Adrien explained, “I’d have to, in order to be able to track him for so long. And I know that he was never one to spend so much time training you just to let you go like that. You made a deal with the devil miss, and that devil’s name is Gabriel Agreste.”

“I can see there’s really no love lost between you two, is there?” Nathalie asked, inwardly thrown by such a powerful sorcerer having such a benign, even benevolent name. Nathalie knew that there were times, when he thought her asleep, he would descend to some hidden floor below their living space and all manner of dark energy would radiate out from beneath the floorboards. It had no help of getting her own spell broken though, so she had merely left it alone.

“I do love my father,” Adrien protested, “And I probably always will. But even I can admit he’s going down a dangerous path. And I have no doubt that his one weakness he would protect as heavily as he could.”

“Amd what do you think that weakness is? Me?” Nathalie laughed, “Surely you’re joking.”

“Why else would he make it so that you can’t leave this tower? Why else would he put an unbreakable spell on you?”

“Enough!” Nathalie exclaimed, standing up and her magic sending out a minor shockwave, completely belying the otherwise calm facade she’d fixed into place. She couldn’t admit that the boy’s words were tapping in to something she hadn’t wanted to give any thought to. Years and years of the most complicated spellcraft she had studied and emulated had yielded nothing, what if the spell truly  _ was _ unbreakable? No, she had herself convinced he wasn’t capable of  _ that _ type of cruelty. And yet that little voice of doubt niggled, persisting all the same.

“I can help you,” Adrien leaned forward, taking her hands, “I know another sorcerer, one even more powerful than my father. I can bring him here, have him free you.”

Nathalie narrowed her eyes at him, “Nothing comes so generously. You want something from me.”

“Your help,” Adrien replied.

“My help doing what?”

“Are you really unaware miss?” Adrien looked incredulous, “My father is creating monsters, which he unleashes upon the townsfolk all across France. He needs to be stopped, but we can’t do it alone.”

“I-” it was a lot to take in, “I don’t-”

“Please miss,” Adrien was all but begging now, “That’s all we would-”

“Adrien?” Hawkmoth, no  _ Gabriel’ _ s voice interrupted their conversation. Nathalie’s blood ran cold, how much of that had he heard?

Adrien looked just as shellshocked. He turned around to face his sire, “Father, I-”

“Adrien what are you doing- how did you find me?”

It was only now the boy looked anything _ less _ than confident and self-assured. Just like a child again when faced with his father.  “When you never came back I- mom had one of your talismans, I think from before I was born. I found your magical signature, I’ve been following you for quite a while now, trying to work up the courage to speak to you in person.”

Gabriel’s face was blank, an emotionless mask. But in a near instant he was the charming host, the persona she’d seen the one or two times he’d needed to bring an acquaintance back to the tower. He was playing nice, for now. Who knew how long that would last?

MLB

It lasted for the rest of the night, surprisingly. Nathalie prepared dinner and took hers in her room, opting to leave the two Agreste’s alone to try and work out their family issues. This had been the very reason Nathalie never wanted children of her own, it was far too much a burden in every sense of the word. And when the conversation continued to drone, on and on into the wee hours of the morning Nathalie decided to take advantage of the situation.

She stole into her master’s room, easily undoing the protective wards without setting them off and slipped inside. It was a bit more difficult getting all of her hair in, thank goodness for hair fixing spells, it was braided and pinned off the floor in no time. She perused the shelves of his personal library, seeking out a time that might hold the answers. She did find it, though not in the way she was expecting. 

A small leather bound book. A journal. And it detailed everything. The most enlightening being that he felt some sort of remorse for some of his actions. His lack of a relationship with his son being one of them, not being there for his wife when it had counted being another, and then, perhaps in the vaguest terms of all, his written words expressed regret for what it was he had done to her.

Nathalie could count on one hand the number of spells Hawkmoth had performed on her since she had become his student. Which left her to draw only one conclusion. Adrien had been right. 

The realization left her winded, and she dropped the book from her hands. But it was as she scrambled to pick it up and return it to its proper space, then retreat to her room where she could lament in peace, that she was caught.

“Nathalie,” Hawkmoth said from behind her, causing her to whirl, her heart beating frantically in fear and stress, “You know better than to be in my room, what are you doing in here?”

“Master.” she was out of breath, ineffectively hiding the book behind her back as she frantically tried to think up an excuse, “I was just- I mean, I was, I was…”

“Poking your nose in where it didn’t belong,” Hawkmoth replied, “I should punish you for that. But my son’s little visit has left me feeling in a better mood than usual. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Where is Adrien, anyways?” Nathalie tried to distract him from the topic at hand.

“He returned home.” Hawkmoth replied, “He has a family of his own now that he seems to want to take care of.”

“He’s married already?”

“From what I gather, no,” Hawkmoth replied, “But if he gets his way that will be changing fairly soon. However, he says he had some business which needs to be taken care of first. I almost can recall when  _ I _ was such an impetuous youth.”

“Mhm,” Nathalie nodded, trying to keep calm. But it was hard, when faced with the knowledge that the one person you were supposed to be able to trust above all others had been betraying you. Harder still, when you knew that his own son wanted your help to take him down. And that that was his “urgent business” that needed to be taken care of. 

“You seem distracted. Is something the matter?” though he asked the question Nathalie could feel his empathic abilities banging at her own mental shields. But if she let him in now she knew it would be all over.

“I’m fine,” she replied, “It’s just a bit much you know, to learn you have a wife and a child all in one day…”

“Had,” He corrected.

“Had?”

“I  _ had _ a wife, and my title as father to my son is at the moment tenuous at best.”

“I see,”

“But back to business,” Hawkmoth dusted off his hands, “I want you to return to me whatever book you stole. This instant.”

“Book?” Nathalie feigned ignorance, “I’m not hiding any book,”

“I know when you’re lying to me. Just give it up and I’ll forget it ever happened.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Nathalie brought the journal out of hiding. She placed it in his hands and watched the surprised expression cross his own face as he realized which tome it was. His eyes flickered, between her and the book. Nathalie was certain there was a guilty expression on her face, one that went beyond simply taking a book from her master’s library.

“Can I ask something else master?” Nathalie chanced, using his own shock to her advantage.

“I’ll hear your request at the very least,” he replied distractedly, quickly flipping through the pages.

With but a whispered word her hair was unbound, falling like a river around them, “Will you cut my hair?”

That should have been it for her. There could be no doubt in his mind that she knew. But instead of the anger and indignation she expected when he put two and two together, what she got was practically the exact opposite.

“So,” he began, grin sickening and cold, “you finally figured it out did you?” 

Her eyes were welling with the sting of his betrayal, “You never had any intention of letting me go, did you?”

He chuckled, he actually had the gall to  _ laugh _ at a time like this, “So long as your hair remains uncut, you are bound, and you belong to me. Didn’t I say that in the very beginning?”

“But why?” she couldn’t understand it, “You said I was skilled, that I had the potential to be as great as you.”

“Greater, actually,” he corrected, “And therein lies the problem.”

Hawkmoth tugged at his gloves in a fastidious manner, “You might be cold, but despite what your name suggests you  _ do _ still have a heart. And a heart can always be swayed. Do you think I want to raise the most powerful witch to fruition only to have her turn on me? Destroy me?”

“Do you really believe I could do that?”

“I have looked into your mind,” he reminded her, “Seen how cold, how vicious you can truly be when your heart has abandoned someone. It’s enthralling, alluring, that frost in your gaze. And if you perceive eliminating me to be for the greater good of the world, I have no doubts how you would act. Your loyalty to me would not outweigh the safety of the free world, would it?”

“I-” she couldn’t deny it, “No,”

“It’s already been swayed, very nearly, hasn’t it? I see my son isn’t nearly as good a child as I remember him to be.”

Nathalie remained silent, unwilling to incriminate Adrien. His relationship with his father was his own business, and she would leave it at that.

“And so you see,” he cupped a hand under her jaw, forcing her to look up at him, “I can’t let you leave.”

“There has to be a way to break the spell,” Nathalie challenged.

“Oh there is,” Hawkmoth agreed, twirling a finger around one of the shorter locks (that still landed at her knees), “But the beauty of it is, that by the time you will be able to break it, you won’t want to leave anyways.”

“And how can you be so sure of that?”

“Because,” Hawkmoth tipped her chin back and looked at her. The next thing she knew, it was hard to breathe, because he was kissing her. Softly, deeply, languidly. Nathalie could feel a fire building within her. When he broke it to allow her air Nathalie felt cold, and acutely disappointed. The wizard took that moment to finish his statement, “You’re already falling in love with me.”

With her chest heaving and her eyes half-lidded and her limbs so weak they couldn’t hold up her weight Nathalie didn’t have the ability to disagree. And so she stayed. One morning some time far down the road Hawkmoth awoke to find his bed empty, devoid of where she had taken to sleeping in it beside him.

He found her at the table, pouring over another volume of spells. His hand tucked a lock of fallen hair behind her ear, playing at the nape of her bare neck from behind her. She shivered, turning and reaching a hand up to cup his face. The gold of her wedding band sparkled in the earling morning life. Nathalie cupped his jaw and gave him a kiss, and all work for the day was promptly forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Leave a comment and let me know. Until next time everyone


End file.
